I have been so seriously conditioned by our realtor that I'd forgotten what it's like to inhabit a house where there are things on surfaces - clutter! clutter! And of course, it's driving me crazy. This started as a picture, all the same, of morning sunlight hitting the wonderful new coffee grinder here in Santa Fe, which is producing quite superlative grounds - but even as it was brewing, I was stashing olive oil bottles away in a closet, and wondering about some other strange accumulations of things. That home-made muesli in a big jar, for example ... it's been there rather a long time ... that can go, tomorrow ... probably it's so stale that even the birds would turn up their beaks at it, so it's one for the compost bin, unless it's snowing too hard for an outdoors expedition in that direction. On the other hand, it's the Things that make me know that it's home the minute I come through the door - when I've been away it's as though I go around checking in with all of them, appreciating their existence ...
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